Ping Pong Fever: Hazardous to one’s health and one’s lunch budget.

Are you the sporting type? Are the dicks at Snowboarder magazine the sporting types? I’d answer no. Wait, with Ping Pong I’d have to answer, Yeah, we’re a bunch of taunting, competitive, macho, dirty animals. Even with our “excruciating” work schedule, we find time to play massive amounts of pong in the warehouse.

Shit has been getting ugly down on that pong table. Bets are being made. Rose owed me the equivalent of a aluminum briefcase and I lost the balance to him in pong. Fuck him. Bridges, a dirty, video-gaming hooligan from Vermont ruffled my feathers real good today. Listen up:

We play hard with a special clause: I bet him he won’t break ten points in a game to 21. Well, he’s improving with each awkward backhand and serve. That 10 point peak seems easier for him these days. Things were getting real ugly today. At one point I was playing him for the balance of 40 lunches. Double or nothing jackass-edness. What was at stake?; It means I’d have to buy him lunch for the next forty lunch missions if he hit ten points in our match. Fuck that. He’s a gambling man and doesn’t know when to back down and I finally beat him to snub the lunch balance. Phew. He could have walked away with his January lunch budget coming out of my empty pockets. Dirty bastards.